


Five Things: No Future for Who?

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comic)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things Faith isn't. Yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cleveland

**Author's Note:**

> (Written pretty early in the Season 8 comics run: makes reference to early issues, but isn't really comics-compliant. Comics knowledge isn't required to understand this piece.)

"Mama! Mama! Watch what I can do. I learned to ride without training wheels!"

Faith smiles down at the child. "That's great. I can't wait to see!"

A smaller child tugs at her sleeve. "I can ride a bike, too."

"With training wheels," says the elder, voice dripping superiority.

"I'm four," states the younger, as though this explains everything. Maybe it does.

Faith grins, and allows herself to be herded toward the door. Then she stops and looks down at her offspring. "What are you forgetting?"

They both look at her, then exchange glances with the exasperation she previously thought only teenagers could convey. "Helmets," they chorus, and scamper off to get them.

Their hair is thick and wavy, like hers, and their skin is brown and smooth, like Robin's. They are both girls, and every day, their parents pray -- to a God that Robin believes in and Faith doesn't quite -- that they will never be Called. Being a slayer isn't the same as it was when Faith and Buffy were two against the underworld, when Buffy died twice and Faith followed power into whatever dark place it flowed because it was easier than doing the right thing. But it's still a hard life, and a dangerous one.

At least Kendra and Nicki have the advantages Faith never did: a stable homelife, material comforts, sober and present parents. The things Buffy and Dawn had, the things that make it that much easier to survive life as a slayer or a watcher.

Faith will try to protect her daughters to the death. But the truth is, their grandmother and mother were slayers, both their parents are now watchers, and between them they have all the fear, cautiousness, and general good sense of a grizzly bear. Faith sighs.

"Ready, Mama?" Kendra calls out, from the top of the hill in front of the house.

"Ready!" Faith answers, as Robin appears in the front door.

Kendra flies down the hill at top speed, no training wheels and no hands. Nicki follows behind, training wheels holding her steady, coming almost as fast.

Still watching the girls, Robin puts his arm around Faith. "How's the council?"

Faith ignores his question. "Why did you teach her to do that already?"

"I didn't. Honey, she figured it out by herself."

Faith takes a deep breath. God does exist -- and he's laughing at her. She says a new prayer: Protect my daughters when they are called; keep them safe so they can live to turn thirty and retire from slaying, like I did. Amen.

"Mama! Daddy! Did you see?" Kendra calls.

Faith pushes the worry to the back of her mind, and lets her pride shine through. "Of course I did. You're both so fast!" She takes Kendra's hand, as Robin scoops Nicki into his arms. She smiles at her family. "It's almost dark. Let's go back inside."


	2. Amsterdam

Funny how easy it is to forget old animosities, now that they are scattered around the globe. They'd never try to find each other, but when Faith runs into Buffy for the first time in six years, she greets her like a sister. Which, in a way, she is.

They go to Faith's favorite coffee shop -- the one where the staff and most of the clientele don't know about her job -- and talk for hours. Trading stories of vampires, demons, people rescued, monsters killed.

Faith's deep into one of her best stories. "So he took me into the garage, and these three girls were tied up there. Then this THING came out of the ceiling and--" when two of her regulars wander in from the smoking room. She braces herself as they approach the table.

"Fay!" calls the tall one, slinging an arm over her shoulders.

"Who's your new friend?" asks the short one, giving Buffy a once-over with his eyes.

"She's an old friend, actually," Faith says, putting a slight emphasis on old: Buffy isn't part of this world. She touches Buffy's arm. "'Scuse me for a minute?"

She moves off with the two men, and though they keep their voices soft, Buffy's slayer hearing picks up their words.

"This isn't a good time," Faith says, barely noticing the short one's hand on her ass.

"But my place is right around the corner," the tall one says, pulling some money from his pocket. He tries to tuck the bills into the neckline of her shirt, but she pushes his hand away.

"It's my night off, and you know I don't freelance. Boss don't like that kind of thing."

"Maybe it's not business," says the short one. "Maybe it's just pleasure..."

"Yeah, right." Faith tosses her hair. "She knows me better than that." She gives them each a hard shove in the back, moving them toward the door. "I'm working tomorrow. You know how to find me."

They leave, and for a minute, Faith considers following them out into the night. It'd be easier not to face Buffy again.

But she just has to see the other slayer's shock. She schools her face to nonchalance, turns around, and goes back to the table. "Sorry 'bout the little interuption," she says.

Buffy's eyes are wide, and she opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before anything comes out. "Faith!" she finally manages. "You're a -- a --"

Faith grins. "Prostitute." She takes a sip of her mocha. "Easiest, best-paying job I ever had, by far."

Buffy's clearly disgusted. "How can you say that?"

Faith shrugs. "Well, it is. Anyway, this is Amsterdam, B. It's not even illegal. I mean, come on, didn't you think I'd end up like this?"

"I... I guess it crossed my mind," Buffy stammers. "But I always hoped--"

"And that's the difference between us. You always hoped."

Starting to adjust, Buffy shakes her head a couple of times to clear it. "Wow." She gulps some coffee. "But... all those stories you told me, about your kills..."

"All true. World's oldest profession, world's easiest victims. Even here. We work at night, B. Girls disappear, people wind up dead. But it's a business. The agency can't refuse to send a girl out to an address just because the last four girls that went there never came back." She grins again. "So they send me, and I come back. Odds are, that guy never calls again. Problem solved."

"You're a vampire slayer-slash-prostitute. And that's your day job!?"

Faith lays her hands flat on the table and smiles slyly. "Wanna see what I do for fun?"

Buffy hems and haws and doesn't directly answer the question, but she finds an excuse to leave very soon. Faith can almost see her shaking the dust from her sensible-but-cute boots on the way out the door.

She orders a vodka, which is what she really wanted in the first place, and slugs it back. Waits two minutes, just in case the girl comes back, and then she pulls her cell phone out of the thigh holster under her skirt. She hits the "send" button until the phone dials the last number she called.

"Boss, it's me, Fay. My evening's a bust, so if you got anything that would suit me... No, really, I'm fine. ... Yeah, sure. Call me if ... oh. Sure."

Faith hangs up, slides the phone back into its holster and orders another shot. Same old, same old.


	3. Austin, TX

**   
**

Faith hates killing werewolves -- at least until she knows who they are the rest of the time. Mostly they're normal people who just need a stronger cage and a friend with a tranq gun.

But sometimes -- well, sometimes Faith's up against a wall, like she is tonight. Outnumbered five to one by wolves who are just lucid enough to understand that Faith's what came between them and their prey -- a terrified extended family who are, even now, headed back to Mexico as fast as their dilapidated conversion van will take them. So much for the American dream.

Faith's packing a crossbow, half a dozen stakes, and three knives -- but no tranq gun, because they're just not practical unless you know you're going to need one.

"I'm sorry," she says out loud, fingers already gripping the handle of her silver-bladed knife.

Faith does what she has to do.

.

**One Year Later**

Two nights before the full moon, Faith and her watcher patrol from dusk to dawn. Sense of smell working overtime, they finally track down the nest of vamps that's been terrorizing the Austin suburbs -- must be twenty-five blood suckers bunked in an old barn. They slay, and slay, and slay again.

They're down to the last three vampires, and Faith goads two of them into an attack. With a twist of her bowstaff, she impales them both -- one staked on each end -- and laughs as they explode into dust.

She looks at her watcher, expecting disapproval: he used to tell her she had too much fun at work, and he's never been good at facing his own wild side. But this time, he's busy with the last vamp. He looks like a terrified, slightly built civilian -- until the vampire closes in. Then he lets out a dangerous, canine growl that quickly rises into a full-throated howl.

Faith joins in. She can't help it. He's her mate, and like their non-mystical counterparts, werewolves mate for life.

Neither of them knew that until it was too late. She didn't even know she'd been turned -- not for sure; it could have been a scratch instead of a bite. But it wasn't. They ran into each other once, had some drinks, ended up back at her place. Ever since -- she can hate him, she can leave him, she can lock herself in the strongest cage she can find. It doesn't matter. The morning after a full moon, they still wake up side-by-side.

They've both chosen, finally, to stop fighting it. Faith has a watcher again. She no longer lives or sleeps or patrols alone -- and when her mate howls, she does, too.

The vamp realizes what it's dealing with just as Oz closes his hands around its throat. With a growl and a twist, Oz breaks its neck and removes its head from its body. It dissolves into dust.

Faith looks at Oz across the space where the vampire was, and he grins. "You're right. That was fun."

She grins back. "I knew you'd learn to see it my way."

Oz takes her hand. "Sun's coming up. Let's go home."

Faith weaves her fingers between his. Together, they head back to Austin.


	4. Beloit, WI

He'll never turn her, Faith knows that. He's too shrewd. He's already afraid of her strength; add another kind of demon, and he'd never be able to contain her.

She doesn't mind. For one thing, she understands the difference between soul and memories -- she spent enough time with Angel. Not that she's afraid of what she'd do without a soul, since it can't really be worse than what she's doing anyway. But she might lose whatever makes her Faith, and not even know until it's too late.

Besides, she has almost 30 years before she'll catch up to Ethan Rayne's apparent age, and one of them will surely double-cross the other long before that. No point in changing to be like him.

For now, they're working together. She is his eyes and ears in the sunlight, his co-conspirator, the daughter he never had and the lover he always wanted. In return, he helps her avoid the law, sends his minions to kill off police officers or anybody else who gets too nosy -- and yeah, vampire sex is something else. Especially with an unrepentantly evil vamp.

They're cutting a swath through the American midwest -- land of legal firearms and gullible peasants, he says. Having fun, wreaking havoc, and waiting for the new Watchers' Council and its schoolgirl slayers to catch up. Hoping they can cause enough trouble to get the original slayer and her watcher to come after them -- Faith is just dying to see the look on Buffy's face. In the old days, when they were the Chosen Two, they followed each other's lives in their dreams. That's gone now that six hundred other girls have become the Chosen, Too -- so she has no idea when word will get back to B.

Tonight, Ethan is meeting with the local vamps, deciding who to kill, who to recruit, and who to leave in place to terrorize the populace after they've moved on. Faith is bringing home dinner: in the front seat of the stolen car, gourmet pizza for herself; in the back, two bound and gagged hostages for Ethan.

"Stealing a car, Faith? I thought you wanted to avoid the law."

"I know it's risky, but look at them! How could I bring just one?"

The man is about forty-five, tweedy, and bespectacled. The girl is maybe 19, tiny, and blond. Both are courtesy of the library at the local college, where Faith found them in a rather compromising position.

Ethan smiles slyly. "From the right angle, they really could be Ripper and that slayer of his," he concedes, his hand caressing her neck. "I do like the way you think."

Faith kisses him, moaning as his arms come around her. She has half a mind to make their prisoners watch while she and Ethan do what they didn't get a chance to -- she caught them before they were undressed.

But Ethan is hungry. And he's a better lay after he's been fed.

Faith breaks away and goes to the victims, ungagging them. The man begins to wail and blubber immediately, but the girl just stares, resolute.

Ethan starts with the girl, letting the man continue to scream. A new plan forms in Faith's mind: they can make a pattern of this, taking tweedy middle-aged men and petite blond girls, and it won't be long before their enemies catch on. They'll know someone is out to get them, but they won't know who. And when they find out... well, the shock of betrayal will give Faith and Ethan an edge. They will succeed where so many have failed; they will finally bring down Buffy Summers and Rupert Giles, and this time, they'll both stay dead.

Faith watches Ethan feed, imagining that it's Buffy's blood sliding down his throat.


	5. somewhere in Scotland

**   
**

Faith hates Cleveland. A second-rate city with a second-rate hellmouth, she's hated it right from the start. Big surprise that the black watcher and the slayer from the wrong side of the tracks got sent to Cleveland instead of somewhere nice.

So when her work in Sydney is done, she's sure as hell not going back. Buffy's the one who sent her there in the first place. It's because of Buffy, too, that she ended up in this stupid project Giles thought up. Convince rogue slayers to join the good side of the force -- what, with herself as a shining example? No wonder it didn't work.

After too many sleepless nights, she realizes that it comes down to one simple truth: she and Buffy never should have been slayers at the same time. She catches a flight to Scotland, and spends the trip imagining all the ways this meeting could play out.

There are girls guarding the castle, and mystical protections too. But you don't survive seven years as the slayer -- even slayer numero dos -- without learning some things about sneaking around.

She has a couple of knives, and stakes of course, but really she wants to finish this with her bare hands. Not that she really has a plan -- but hey, she's been a slayer this long because she can think pretty good on her feet, too.

It's 8 a.m., which -- in slayer terms -- is the middle of the night. Faith finds Buffy in a small gymnasium, stretching. Guess she's not sleeping too well, either. She's wearing a tank-top and tights, and how she manages to look so innocent, even now, and so hot at the same time is something Faith will never understand. She looks up when the door closes, then stands quickly, almost clumsily, eyes wide. "Faith?"

She was braced for anger, ready to fight, but Buffy's voice is more tentative than anything else. "In the flesh, B."

"You survived."

Faith shrugs. "First rule of slaying: don't die."

Tears com to Buffy's eyes, and she throws her arms around Faith. "I was so worried -- Giles lost touch with you in Australia, and a little hellmouth closed up, and we thought maybe you were in it--" Buffy's still hugging her, talking fast, and Faith was definitely not expecting this.

Faith pushes back far enough to make eye contact. "You're happy to see me?"

Buffy shrugs, a gesture Faith reads as apology. "I was a bitch last time we saw each other. Giles explained everything."

There's an uncomfortable silence, and Faith realizes her relationship with Buffy isn't about to get any less complicated -- let alone come to an end. They move apart, Buffy leading the way to a small couch.

"Did we lose anyone? In Sydney?"

Faith sighs. "Serena. Her girlfriend got turned, and she went back for her anyway." There's a moment of respectful silence, and then she continues. "She should have known better. She was stupid. But she was sixteen."

"I know. Poor girl," Buffy says. She presses her fingertips to her temples. "At least it was only one."

"This time."

"This time." They both ponder the horrible truth of that for a minute. Then Buffy looks up. "Serena had a girlfriend? But she was always --"

"-- chasing guys, I know." Faith shrugs. "Slight case of lesbianism, I guess."

Buffy blushes bright pink. "Well... I hear that's going around."

"B?" Faith laughs. "Spill, girlfriend, before I have to get the story from Xander."

"Not much story, really. It was... a thing... and now it's over. She requested transfer to another squad."

"And you?"

"What?"

"Are you flying the rainbow flag? Challenging Kennedy to a duel at dawn?"

Buffy laughs. "No, and definitely no. Will's like a sister to me. And I'm not giving up on guys because I got involved with one woman--"

"So it was still better with--"

"Shut up!" Buffy punches Faith in the arm, hard.

"Ow!"

"Why are we talking about my sex life again, anyway?"

Faith shrugs. "'Cuz I'm going through a dry spell? Nothing to tell here."

"Robin?"

"You didn't hear? Long, long since over. One reason I'm not going back to Cleveland."

"Faith--"

"No. Buffy, I don't care if you're still the first slayer, I'm not following anymore orders, and I'm not going back to--"

"You thought you were following orders?"

"You said you wanted me in Cleveland--"

"I thought you'd argue with me if you didn't like it!" Buffy grips Faith's arm. "Faith, all these other people -- the new slayers, the watchers, even the people I knew in Sunnydale -- look up to me. I'm supposed to be in charge, and they follow my orders whether I'm right or wrong. But you shouldn't."

Faith blinks a couple of times. "You're happy to see me -- because you expect me to argue with you?"

"It sounds pretty lame when you put it like that."

Faith grins. "You're a piece of work, B."

"Tell me about it." Buffy licks her lips, then looks Faith in the eye. "I didn't want you leaving the states because I was afraid you'd have trouble at customs. That's why I asked you to stay in Cleveland. But now that you're here, please don't go."

A cascade of memories washes over Faith: the first time she met Buffy, nights slaying, nights dancing, the body-switching, and the whole mess before Sunnydale sunk into the ground. Hell on Earth, she would have said an hour ago -- but the way Buffy's looking at her now, eyes full of longing...

"Kiss me."

"What?" Surprise, but not disgust.

"I'm not hanging around while you try to make it work with someone -- boy, girl, or creature of the night -- who should be following orders. We're still the Chosen Two, B. There's nobody else like us." Faith grabs Buffy by the shoulders and holds tight. "We can't keep trying to one-up each other. If you want me to stay, we have to find another way. We're not sisters, and I kinda think we'll never be friends, so there's only one thing left. Kiss me."

And Buffy does.

After a year in a coma and two years in prison, the apocalypse she tried to cause and the ones she helped to avert, the people she killed and the friends she saw die -- after all that water under the bridge, Faith never thought she'd feel young again.

But there's magic, it turns out, in being where you belong.

She and Buffy still fight. They make the hard decisions together -- easier said than done, most of the time -- and neither of them follows orders. They train slayers, recruit watchers, secure funding, direct research -- usually arguing about every detail. But at the end of the day, they always make up, and that's getting easier every time.

Faith rolls over in bed, and Buffy snuggles into her arms. "Faith? Still there?"

"Always."

"Mmmm."

Faith feels younger -- lighter and happier -- than she can remember. She smiles, and they both go back to sleep.


End file.
